


The Day with All the Consequences

by TeddysHoney



Series: You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, And He Chooses Not To Use Them, Figuring Out Where Noah Belongs, Loving Daddy and Papa, M/M, Noah Has Safewords, Spanking, Time Out, Toy Jail, mouth soaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddysHoney/pseuds/TeddysHoney
Summary: It's been two weeks since Kurt and Blaine brought Noah home to be their baby. Those two weeks haven't gone well, and nobody is happy with the way things are. Not everybody knows it, though. This is the story of how Kurt and Blaine learned to parent and how Noah learned that Daddy and Papa love him.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel/Noah Puckerman
Series: You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059878
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	The Day with All the Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> This story was supposed to be a short one-shot to fill in some gaps that were missing between When Puck Fell and the Christmas story I'm writing for this little family. Well, it turned into a nearly 6k long story that Noah apparently felt needed to be told. There will be one other filler piece (hopefully shorter, but we'll see) before the Christmas story, which I can tell you is already longer than this one, and it's not finished. I hope you enjoy!

Kurt and Blaine were certainly patient. Noah would give them that. He'd been living with them as their “baby” for just shy of two weeks, and he was throwing everything at them that he possibly could to get them to give up. Every request they made, every rule they'd given him, he'd broken on numerous occasions. So far, not much had happened. He'd expected to be spanked or have his mouth washed out, something unpleasant, but so far the worst thing had been a time out. Kurt and Blaine had sure acted tough in the car, smacking at his bare legs, but they hadn't laid a finger on him since. It made no sense, so Noah had set out to see what would happen first: a punishment or giving up.

Daddy and Papa were exhausted. They'd gone into this planning to be gentle. They'd read that some littles might need a heavy hand to really get into the swing of things, but Kurt and Blaine didn't want to do that. Noah had suffered so much hurt and pain in his past that they didn't want to inflict more. They'd had to in the car as there were few other discipline options. They hadn't enjoyed it and had vowed to keep physical punishments as a last resort. Now, though, they were two weeks in, and nothing was getting any easier. Noah was acting worse than when he'd been drunk and confused. Everything they asked him for was met with a “no!” and a stomp. He'd thrown toys, he'd had tantrums, he'd just flat out ignored them, and Kurt and Blaine were at their wits end.

“I've got to call Dad,” Kurt said that night after finally getting Noah into bed. “I don't know what we're doing wrong, but I can't keep going on like this.”

Blaine nodded, flopping onto the couch in the living room with a sigh. “I hate to say it, but I think we might be doing this to ourselves.”

“What? What do you mean?” Kurt sank onto the cushion next to him, leaning back and looking at his husband.

“Well, we told him the rules and punishments on his first night, and the only one we've used has been timeout. It's clearly not working.”

“We agreed we didn't want to cause him any more pain unless he was being atrocious.” As soon as he said it, Kurt knew what Blaine meant. “He's being atrocious, isn't he?”

Nodding, Blaine replied, “Yeah. I think you could classify these last two weeks as atrocious.”

Kurt sighed. Nothing had been fun. Not like he'd thought it would be. He'd imagined that they'd have a good time baking cookies, watching movies, and playing with Noah's new toys. Maybe they'd go out to a park or something. Instead, all they'd done was fight Noah every step of the way over everyday stuff like getting out of bed, picking up toys, or eating lunch. Looking back, he agreed with Blaine's assessment. “So, what do we do?” he asked. “We can't just start smacking his butt without some type of warning or something. That would be...cruel.”

“In the morning, when we go in to get him up, we'll just have a conversation with him. We'll tell him that we're going to make some changes to his discipline, and if he doesn't straighten up, there will be consequences.”

“Do you think that will do the trick?” Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. “I don't know. Not right away, I'm sure. But, eventually probably.” He chuckled dryly. “It seems like those blogs we were reading were right. I guess we should have listened.”

“Don't remind me,” Kurt groaned, leaning in to snuggle against his husband.

“Hey! Don't fall asleep out here,” Blaine told him, pushing him up. “Let's just go to bed. Today's been a long day. Tomorrow will be, too. We need all the sleep we can get.”

With a moan, Kurt pulled himself up from the couch and stumbled after Blaine to bed. Less than ten minutes later, the two of them were snuggled under the covers, snoring lightly.

The next morning, Kurt woke up early. He lay quietly in bed for a few moments, enjoying the silence and the warmth of his husband next to him. Then, he heard sounds coming from the hallway. It sounded like Noah might already be awake. “Blaine,” he said, nudging him. “Blaine, wake up. We need to go talk to Noah.”

“Uuuuugh!” Blaine moaned, rolling over to look at Kurt through hooded eyes. “Do we have to?” he stretched, yawning widely.

“I think he's already up. We should probably go now before he gets too out of control. He'll need a diaper change anyway.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, pulling back the covers. “We should talk to him before we do that; he always gives us problems at changing time.”

With a decisive nod, both boys scrambled out of bed, throwing on their robes and slippers and walking the few steps down the hallway to Noah's room. When they pushed open the door, they found the little boy in his room, every one of this toys spread out across the floor. He glanced at them with a giant grin on his face but said nothing, continuing to play with the car he had in his hand.

Blaine sighed, doing his best to keep his irritation under control. They'd had several conversations about not getting all of his toys out at once. “Good morning, Noah,” he said sweetly.

Noah pretended not to hear, making louder car noises than before.

“We'd like to talk to you,” Kurt said. “Please sit on your bed.” When there was no movement, he tried again. “Noah, sit on your bed please.”

Still nothing.

Blaine, not having patience to do this all day, strode over to the little boy and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto his feet. “Sit. Down.” he said severely, pushing Noah a few steps backward until his legs made contact with the bed frame.

The little boy sat. “What?” he snarked at them, looking back and forth. “'m busy!”

Blaine let go of his arm, glancing at Kurt for strength before beginning. “Noah, ever since you came to live with us, you have been acting like a brat. Papa and I only gave you a few rules, and you've been bent on breaking them the whole time.”

Noah smirked at Blaine from the bed. “Yeah. So what? You just give me a time out.”

“Well, that's going to change. Starting today,” Kurt said, stepping in. He didn't want Blaine to look like the bad guy all by himself. “If you act up and break the rules, there will be more consequences than just a time out.”

Noah scoffed, not believing them. They'd told him at the beginning they'd do more than a time out, but they hadn't so far. So, he had free reign to do whatever he wanted. Even during his timeouts, they didn't uphold the rules. If it wasn't so fun to get to do whatever he wanted without having to do the important stuff like make money or cook food, Noah was pretty sure he would have left by now. There was only so much fun he could have with baby toys.

“Starting right now, actually,” Blaine said. “How many toys are you allowed out at one time, Noah?” He fixed the little boy with his best Stern Daddy look.

Noah knew the answer but decided to play with them a bit. “As many as I want,” he sassed.

“No. The answer is three. And you know that.” Deciding to emulate the tactic he'd used on Noah's first night with them, he said, “Pick out three toys you'd like to keep with you. The rest need to be put back into your toy box.”

“No.”

“You need to do as you're told, please,” Kurt said, hands on hips. 

“No,” Noah said louder.

“If you don't do as you're told, there will be consequences,” Blaine threatened. “Papa and I aren't kidding.”

Noah shrugged and remained seated on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't believe that they'd actually do anything. He'd thought Kurt and Blaine meant business before, that they might actually care about him. But, he'd been wrong. They were chickens, and they certainly didn't care.

“You have until the count to three,” Blaine said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “If you haven't started picking up your toys by the time I say 'three,' there will be consequences.” When Noah still didn't move, Blaine began counting. “One.”

“No.”

“Two.”

“No!”

“Three.” With a heavy sigh, Blaine said, “Papa, will you stay here, please? I need to go and get something.” 

Kurt gave his husband a confused look but nodded.

“Don't let Noah play with anything. I'll be right back.” With that, he hurried down the hallway to the storage closet. In the beginning, when they'd first talked about doing this for Noah, they'd searched everywhere for ideas on how to parent. They had read blogs, articles, and books. They had surfed magazine articles, and they scoured Pinterest. One idea they'd run across on multiple occasions was the idea of toy jail. If a toy was misused or not treated with care, it went into the toy jail. Blaine wasn't really sure that this counted as misuse or maltreatment. He didn't even know if Noah would care about toy jail. But, they were going to try it. So, he grabbed the large box that was decorated with sparkly letters and returned to Noah's room. “All your toys are going into toy jail,” he explained, setting the box down. “Then, when you do something good, you can have them back. Papa,” he said, turning to Kurt, “will you please pick out one toy for Noah to keep?”

Kurt nodded, glancing around the room. He spotted the small superhero dinosaur they'd bought for him lying amongst the mass of toys on floor and picked it up, examining it for a moment before setting it on the bed. “There. He can keep his dino.”

“Alright. Everything else is going into toy jail,” Daddy repeated, beginning to clean up.

Noah did not like this arrangement. He didn't want all of his toys to go away. He liked zooming his cars around and flying his superheroes across his bedroom, even if it was a little childish. He'd never really had toys as a kid. Those were his. “Stop!” he yelled, jumping up from the bed. He made a dash toward Daddy, trying to stop him, but Papa stuck out his arms and caught him.

“I'm sorry, Noah,” Daddy said calmly, continuing to put his toys into the box. “I don't listen to yelling.”

“Please,” Noah begged, tears coming to his eyes. “Please stop. I'll clean up! I promise.” He watched dejectedly as Blaine put his favorite Superman figure into the box.

“Next time we ask you to clean up, I hope you will,” Blaine replied. “This time, however, your toys are going to jail. You can bail them out by being good and listening to Papa and me.” He couldn't help grinning a little at his pun.

“No! I'll clean up now! Promise!” Noah began wiggling in Kurt's hold, desperate to get away and stop Blaine from taking all his toys away. “God damn it!” he yelled as Kurt pulled him back toward the bed. “Fuckin' let go of me!” He kicked and squirmed, but Kurt was surprisingly strong.

“That is some very naughty language, little boy,” Kurt observed as he hugged Noah to his chest. “I suggest you use nice words, or I'll be washing that naughty language out of your mouth with soap.”

“No, you fuckin' won't!” Noah cried, continuing to struggle. “Just let go of me, damn it!”

“Come to the bathroom with me,” Kurt said, sighing as he rose, Noah still trapped in his arms.

“No! No! Let go of me!” he insisted. It seemed like maybe Kurt hadn't been kidding about the soap. His momma had done that once, and it had been awful. He didn't want soap in his mouth. “No! I'll stop! Sorry!” he tried.

“I'm sure you are. No one likes having a soapy mouth,” Kurt replied, continuing on their trek. “If you cooperate, Noah, this will be over a lot faster.”

Once they got to the bathroom, Noah let himself be set down on the toilet. When Kurt let go of him, he decided to make a run for it. But, to his misfortune, Blaine was there, catching him and swatting him sharply.

“Go sit back down,” Blaine said sternly.

“I don't want it!” Noah tried, sulkily returning to his seat on the toilet. 

“I'm sorry. I hope this will remind you not to use naughty language,” Kurt replied, turning to his boy with a fresh bar of soap, wet from the sink. 

“No!” Noah shouted, plastering his hands over his mouth. He shook his head wildly, his eyes big at the sight of the bar.

“Move your hands,” Kurt instructed firmly.

Noah whined, shaking his head pitifully and not moving his hands.

“Noah, don't make me count, please.” Kurt's voice was gentle this time. He really didn't want to do this, but being nice wasn't working. “Move your hands, and it will all be over quickly.”

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Noah realized that they weren't backing down. Shit was getting serious, and he was NOT ready. But, he didn't know what would happen to him if he didn't move his hands, and he didn't really want to find out. So, he slowly lowered them, clamping his mouth shut.

“Open,” Kurt instructed, soap ready. 

Noah shook his head again.

“Noah, open your mouth.” This time, there was a no-nonsense tone to Kurt's voice, and Noah let his jaw go slack, just a bit. Quickly, Kurt slid the bar of soap in, running it around the boy's mouth to cover his cheeks and tongue thoroughly. When he was done, he told Noah, “One minute. Then, you can rinse.”

Big tears glistened in Noah's eyes, running down his cheeks as he sat there, the bitter taste of soap coating his entire mouth. It made him want to gag. Crying certainly wasn't helping, he knew, but this was probably the worst day he'd had in a long time. Kurt and Blaine were being mean, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be there anymore. They'd told him he could leave, after all. Did he want to leave? Leaving was scary. He was in New York, far away from anyone and any place he knew. It didn't really matter who he knew, no one loved him anyway. 

There wasn't really much to go back to if he went to Lima. Kurt and Blaine had told him that—Daddy and Papa, he corrected himself. If he was going to score any brownie points, he definitely had to get their names right. Daddy and Papa had told him he'd lost all his pools. He knew the place he'd been living was a total dump. No one in Lima cared about him anyway. 

Everything he was thinking was too much; it was giving him a headache. He hung his head and sobbed, waiting to be able to spit out that stupid soap. Maybe nowhere was going to be better than here, but being here certainly sucked.

“Here, my Noah,” Papa said, extending a cup to the sobbing boy. “Rinse your mouth and then we can snuggle and talk.”

Noah nodded slowly, accepting the cup and taking a big gulp. He swished the liquid around in his mouth and spit it loudly into the sink. He repeated the process over and over, and, while the taste grew fainter, it never really went away. It lingered, sitting at the back of his throat, threatening to coat it each time he swallowed. 

Eventually, Papa took the cup and set it on the edge of the counter. The little boy was still sniffling and looking sorry for himself, and it broke Kurt's heart. He pulled Noah to him, cradling his head against his chest. “I'm sorry about that, sweetheart,” he whispered into his hair. “Papa doesn't like having to do that, but you know you're not allowed to use those naughty words.”

“'m sorry,” Noah babbled into Papa's chest. “'m sorry. 'm sorry.”

“You're forgiven,” Kurt promised, kissing his head. “Let's go sit and rock, shall we?” He extended a hand to the teary boy.

Nodding glumly, Noah took it, following Papa to the rocking chair in his room, fresh tears beginning to fall as he noticed all his toys were gone, presumably sitting in the toy jail that Daddy had pushed against the wall. Daddy was sitting on Noah's bed, his head in his hands. Noah thought he looked like he might be crying, so he wiggled free of Papa's hand to sit next to Daddy. “Sorry I was naughty,” he whispered, patting at Blaine's back awkwardly.

Daddy glanced up, pulling Noah into a tight hug. “You're forgiven, sweetheart,” he said, just like Papa had. “We just want you to be happy here. Are you happy here?” He pulled back and searched Noah's face seriously.

The little boy didn't know how to answer that question. He certainly wasn't happy now. His mouth tasted like he'd swallowed some bath water, and his cheeks and eyes were puffy from so much crying. He had a longing to win all his toys back that he didn't understand, and he'd felt a pang of...something...when he saw Blaine, er, Daddy crying on the bed. Was he happy here? Could he be happy if he wasn't in trouble? He thought for a few moments, not answering as Blaine looked at him. Finally, he whispered, “I think so...”

“If you're happy here, we'd love for you to stay,” Daddy said, putting gentle hands on Noah's cheeks. “If you want to leave and go home, though, we aren't forcing you to stay.” He blinked, waiting for Noah's answer.

As much as he didn't want to admit this, this conversation was making him feel very vulnerable and, well, small. He hadn't wanted to come here to New York. They'd brought him against his will. He hadn't wanted to be a baby and use diapers. They'd also started him on that without telling him. But, they'd also started loving him and taking care of him without telling him, and Noah wasn't sure that he wanted to lose that. He'd been searching for it all of his life, with past girlfriends and friendships that repeatedly failed. This time, someone was loving him without him so much as asking, without him having to put in any effort. In fact, he'd put in the opposite of effort, and still someone loved him. Two someones. They were doing it, because they wanted to. He couldn't lose that. “I stay,” he finally said, so softly that Daddy wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly.

“You'll stay?” he asked, hope filling his eyes.

Noah nodded. “I stay,” he repeated.

With that, Daddy pulled him back into a tight squeeze, rubbing his hand up and down Noah's back as he rocked them gently back and forth. They stayed like this for several minutes, Noah's arms loosely around Daddy's middle. When he pulled away, Daddy planted a few kisses on Noah's cheeks. “I love you, Noah,” he whispered. “Papa and I both do.”

Kurt had been sitting across the room, watching the exchange closely. He felt a little sorry for himself that he wasn't part of the conversation, but he knew this was how it should be. Blaine was the more emotional one in their relationship, wearing his heart on his sleeve most of the time. It made sense that he would have the more emotional conversations with Noah. 

Kurt, while not void of emotion by any means, was more practical. He was better at playing and imagination. He'd talked with Blaine about the likelihood of him becoming the “mean parent” as they went along, and while he wasn't thrilled with the idea, it was a possibility he was willing to accept. Quietly, he padded over to the bed, pulling both Noah and Blaine into a hug of his own. His was silent, hoping that Noah could feel the emotion and love radiating through his chest as he held them both tightly, placing a few tender kisses against Noah's hair. They didn't move until someone's stomach growled. “Somebody needs breakfast,” Papa said, pulling away with a chuckle.

Noah's cheeks flushed. “'m hungry,” he admitted, looking between these two men. “'m sorry I was naughty,” he repeated, wanting to be sure they knew.

“My Noah, we've both forgiven you,” Daddy reassured, rubbing a few circles on Noah's back. “Let's go get some breakfast in that tummy, hmm? What do you think about helping me make an omelet?”

“I dunno,” Noah shrugged. “I've never makeded foo--” He stopped, flummoxed by his sudden baby talk.

“I'll help you,” Daddy replied, not commenting on the slip. “Let's go then!”

Despite Daddy deciding he needed a diaper change first, Noah had a wonderful time helping Daddy and Papa make breakfast. Cooking was actually fun, he decided. He wasn't a big fan of having to read the recipe, but getting to watch Papa chop veggies and being Daddy's taste tester was fun. And, he kinda enjoyed getting to stir. They even let him make a mess without getting mad, something that had never happened before. He vowed to himself as they ate their omelets and sucked down juice that he was never going to be naughty for them again, even though the omelet did taste a little like soap. Being good was way more fun, and he loved how many times Papa and Daddy called him “sweetheart” and “my Noah” as they did things together.

His vow did not last long, however. After breakfast, Daddy and Papa played with him, deciding he'd been good enough during breakfast to earn three more of his toys back. He'd picked out three race cars, and they'd spent the rest of the morning on the floor, making up stories and zooming cars back and forth. After a quick lunch of sandwiches, Papa had announced that it was time for a nap.

“Let's go read a story in your room, sweetheart,” Papa said, holding out his hand for the little boy.

“No, thank you,” Noah said politely, sliding out of his chair and ignoring Papa's hand. “Wan' TV now, please.” Daddy and Papa liked it when he used manners. They told him so.

“Well, that's very nice manners, but nap time isn't a choice today,” Papa said gently. “You can pick out any story you want. Come on, please.” He wiggled his fingers in Noah's direction.

Noah shook his head. “No, thank you.” Papa had said he was using nice manners. It would work.

“My polite little boy,” Papa praised, coming over to give him a hug. As he pulled away, he grabbed Noah's hand, giving it a little tug. “Let's go to your room. I'll change your diaper, and we can read a story.”

“No!” Noah said louder, making a fist and wiggling to get out of Papa's hand. Manners clearly weren't working very well. “Wan' watch TV!”

“After nap time, we can watch a movie,” Papa tried. “Right now, it's naptime.”

“Nooooooo!” Noah stomped his foot loudly.

“Noah, don't be naughty for us please,” Daddy pleaded from his spot at the table. “After your nap, we can have more fun. I promise.”

“'m not even tired!” Noah wailed, wiggling some more. “Don' wanna nap!”

“Little boys who whine are tired,” Papa commented. “Let's go, please.”

“No!” This time, he stomped hard on Papa's foot.

“You need to march yourself to your room right now, little boy,” Papa commanded through gritted teeth. “I will be in there to talk to you in a minute.”

By now, Noah was blind with anger. He knew, in the back of his mind, that going to his room as he had been told to do would be the best idea. But, he didn't want to. He had used his manners, and they'd told him no. That's not how this was supposed to work. So, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest and stomped again, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

Daddy stepped in again. “You have until the count of three,” he warned. “After that, you won't like the consequences. One.” He waited patiently. “Two.”

Noah didn't move. This was not fair. He glared at Daddy, shouting, “TV!”

“Three.” With that, Daddy stood, took Noah's arm, and sat back down, pulling the little boy across his lap, face down. Using one hand, Daddy held the little boy tightly across his lap. With the other, he whisked down Noah's sweatpants.

“No!” Noah wailed, realizing what was about to happen. “Daddy no! Sorry! I'll go now! I'll go!”

“We gave you plenty of chances, Noah,” Daddy said, reaching around to quickly untape the diaper and remove it. “I guess you wanted a few more consequences before your nap.”

“No!” Noah yelled, wiggling desperately to get away. Even though they hadn't smacked his bottom since their car ride here, he remembered what it felt like to get a spanking, and he didn't want one. His momma had done it a few times, when she'd cared enough to keep track of his behavior, and they'd hurt. He knew this wouldn't be any different.

“I don't like doing this,” Daddy lectured, laying down the first few smacks to Noah's round cheeks. “I don't like spanking my little boy's bottom. But, if you can't listen and follow directions after both Papa and I have given you several chances, I guess you need one. Disobeying is against our rules, Noah. And stomping on Papa's foot is very naughty behavior.”

“Ow!” Noah yelped pitifully as Daddy laid down several smacks. “Ow! It hurts! Stop! Owie! Sorry! Sorry!”

“It's supposed to hurt,” Daddy replied, moving his smacks to the top of Noah's thighs. “I hope this helps you to think about your behavior next time you want to yell at Papa and me and stomp on our feet.” He continued the spanking, coloring the tops of Noah's thighs a dark pink before raising his right knee to tilt the boy forward.

Noah had tears and snot running down his face. He'd stopped trying to say words. Instead, he just cried, muttering “Owwwwwieeeee,” at each pitiful smack. When he felt Daddy's knee moving, though, he began to wriggle furiously. “No! Please!” he begged.

“Just a few more, my Noah,” Daddy murmured, his heart breaking with the little boy's cries. “Almost done.” True to his word, he applied four smacks to each sit spot before stopping, rubbing at the boy's back and whispering to him as he sobbed out his pain over Daddy's lap. 

Finally, after a few minutes, Noah's tears had stopped. He lay there, sniffling, soaking up the words that Daddy was whispering, the heavy heat of his hand on his back soothing. He struggled up a few moments later and launched himself into Daddy's arms for a hug, not caring about his nakedness. “Sorry! 'm sorry!” he exclaimed over and over into Daddy's shoulder.

“You're forgiven, sweetheart,” Daddy reassured him, rubbing at his back again. “You're forgiven, and your punishment is over. You don't need to apologize anymore.” After a little while, Daddy whispered, “It's time to go with Papa for a diaper change and a story before your nap.” He patted at Noah's arms, and the little boy reluctantly let go.

“You come,” he whispered, looking sadly at Daddy with his puffy eyes and red, wet cheeks.

“I'll come listen to the story, too,” Daddy said reassuringly. “Go with Papa for your diaper. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

His pants kicked off sometime during the spanking, Papa bent and collected Noah's sweats and his dirty diaper. “Come on, my Noah,” he said, holding out his hand again. “Let's go get you cleaned up and ready for a nap.”

To Noah's surprise, Papa applied a thick layer of lotion to his sore cheeks and thighs before diapering him up and putting him gently on the bed. “What book would you like?” he asked quietly. 

Noah felt very sleepy, and he rubbed at his eyes with his fists, answering through a yawn, “Cat 'n' Hat?”

“The Cat in the Hat it is,” Papa declared, selecting the title from Noah's bookshelf before returning to the little boy's bed. He opened the cover to begin, but Noah put his hand over the first page, covering the words.

“Daddy come?” he asked sleepily, looking at Papa. 

“Daddy's here,” came a voice from the doorway. “I'm coming in,” he announced, climbing on the bed to sit behind the little boy. 

Noah gratefully leaned into him. “Can read now, Papa,” he said. If he wasn't so sleepy, he'd have been surprised at himself that the name “Papa” slipped out so easily. He usually struggled with calling them by their names.

Kurt only made it as far as Thing 1 and Thing 2 before Blaine tapped him on the arm. “He's asleep,” he whispered, gesturing at the little boy.

Papa turned to look at Noah, his face peaceful in sleep despite being pink from crying. “He's so cute,” he whispered.

Daddy gently maneuvered himself out from under the sleeping form, positioning Noah so he was on his tummy. “Come on,” he whispered to Papa, holding out his hand.

“I feel so bad,” Kurt said when they were settled together on the couch in the living room. “I feel like we're hurting him.”

“I think we were hurting him before, actually,” Blaine said gently, squeezing Kurt's hand. “His bad behavior was his way of telling us he needed firmer boundaries. What we were doing before wasn't enough for him. He didn't feel safe.”

“How do you know all that?” Kurt asked, wide-eyed. “You sound like a child psychologist or something.”

“Well, I didn't come up with it on my own,” Blaine admitted, dropping his eyes to study their entwined fingers. “While you were changing his diaper, I looked up a little information about it. I was feeling super guilty about spanking him.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“Still guilty,” Blaine replied, meeting his husband's eyes again. “But, not as much, I guess? Like, I know he needed it, and it was the right choice. I just don't like hurting him.” He paused, and tears came to his eyes. “What if he doesn't forgive me?” he whispered, emotional.

“I'm pretty sure he already has,” Kurt replied, rubbing his thumb lovingly over Blaine's knuckles. “He snuggled with you when you sat on his bed, and he wasn't going to let me read until you came in.”

“Do you think so?” Blaine asked, sniffling. He used his free hand to wipe away the few tears that were running down his cheeks.

“I'm positive,” Kurt replied.

“'kay,” Blaine said, snuggling up against his husband and leaning his head on his shoulder.

Kurt and Blaine ended up falling asleep on the couch, waking up a little over an hour later. “I wonder if Noah's awake,” Kurt said, sitting up and stretching. He yawned widely.

Blaine yawned, too, stretching out his back and arms. “Let's go check,” he said, standing and tiptoeing to Noah's room. He pulled the door open just a crack.

“...an' that's why 'm gonna be gooder now, Thupa Wex,” Noah was saying as he lay in his bed. He was still on his tummy, but he held the green superhero dino in front of him, talking to it seriously, his thumb in his mouth. He pulled it out to say, “What you fink we should watch? Daddy sayed we could watch TV af'er nap.”

Blaine grinned and beckoned Kurt over so he could look.

“You fink an aminal one?” Noah asked, looking at Super Rex critically. “ No. Not Yand A'fore Time. How 'bout, um...” he tapped his finger on his chin. “How 'bout Big Hewo Six?” He leaned in close to the dinosaur's ear to whisper, “It's 'bout a wobot wuving a yittle boy. Wike Daddy an' Papa yuv me!”

Kurt's felt like he was going to burst, so he chose that moment to push open the door. “There's my little sweetheart,” he said, walking toward the bed. “How was your nap?”

“It was sweepy,” Noah said. He hadn't really noticed that his speech was so far regressed, but for some reason, it didn't bother him.

“Well that's good,” Daddy chuckled from the doorway. “Naps are supposed to be sleepy.”

“We watch TV now?” Noah wanted to know as Papa directed him onto the changing table. He winced when his sore bottom hit the changing table.

“Sorry, my Noah,” Papa said. “I'll put more lotion on it.”

“We can watch TV,” Daddy agreed, stepping into the room. “What would you like to watch?”

“Me an' Thupa Wex wanna watch Big Hewo Six,” Noah said, smiling at Daddy.

“Big Hero Six is fine,” Daddy agreed. “Is this Super Rex?” he asked, patting the green dinosaur on the head.

“Uh huh! He is my bestest fwiend,” Noah said, holding the stuffed toy in the air proudly.

“I thought I was your best friend,” Daddy pretended to pout. 

Noah shook his head no. “You is my best Daddy,” he told him. “And you is my best Papa, Papa,” he explained as Kurt finished taping on his new diaper.

“Well, you're my best Noah,” Daddy declared.

“And you're my best Noah, too,” Papa said.

Both men leaned in at the same time and kissed Noah's cheeks. Daddy blew a raspberry against his cheek.

“Daddy, don't!” Noah giggled, pushing him away. “Big Hewo Six now?”

“Pants first,” Papa reminded, trying to hand Noah his sweats.

“Papa do,” Noah demanded, waiting.

“What do you say?”

“Papa do please.”

“Okay, my Noah. Right foot first.” Papa helped him into his sweatpants then gave him a gentle swat toward the door. “Go get your movie.”

The swat didn't even sting, and Noah ran off happily, chanting, “Big Hewo Six! Big Hewo Six!” to Super Rex as he went.

“Do you think we're done with consequences?” Kurt asked, wrapping an arm around Blaine's waist. “He seems pretty happy now.”

“Maybe for today,” Daddy replied as they walked toward the living room. “But, our Noah will get himself into more trouble. He'll test the boundaries. He's our little firecracker.”

They were not, in fact, done with consequences for the day. Noah threw a mini-fit before bed about having to clean up his toys, earning himself a 10 minute time out. Kurt and Blaine chalked it up to him being tired from their long, emotional day, and the time out seemed to calm him down. He picked up his toys and excitedly selected five books for them to read before bed that night. They barely made it through two.

“Good night, my Noah,” Papa whispered, gently kissing his cheek before turning off his bedside lamp.

“Good night, sweetie,” Daddy said, kissing his hair. “Sleep tight. We'll see you in the morning.”

The two men turned and walked out the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at their little boy.

In a barely audible voice, they heard Noah mumble sleepily, “Yuv you.”

Kurt and Blaine shared an excited smile, hugging each other close. It seemed that their long day of consequences had earned them exactly what they'd been looking for: a much happier little boy. Though they were happy everything had worked out, they both went to bed hoping they'd never have to have another day quite as full of naughty behavior as this one.


End file.
